TV on the Radio is a band that does not believe in the adage "If it ain't broke, don't fix it." If they did, their follow up to 2006's "Return to Cookie Mountain" would be a good album with a few excellent songs. Instead they produced "Dear Science," their most cohesive, accessible, all-around best material to date.
"Dear Science" retains the trademark sound of TV on the Radio, but expands on it. Influences ranging from David Bowie (a noted fan who had guest vocals on "Return to Cookie Mountain"), to drum and bass, to African rhythms can be heard on the album. Each of these elements adds a layer to the band's already rich sound.
The album kicks off with "Halfway Home," on which lead vocalist Tunde Adebimpe displays his range, switching between rumbling baritone and piercing falsetto. With its handclaps and "bum-ba-da-bum" chorus over dense backing, it is a good introduction into the beautiful aural world of "Dear Science," while still sounding similar to their older material.
If "Halfway Home" is a bridge between old and new TV on the Radio, "Crying," the second track on the album, is a testing ground for their newfound influences. Beginning with an airy, almost dub-step loop, the track is dominated by a funk guitar hook that sounds like it is pulled from some early Bowie record.
With "Dancing Choose," the third track, the band has done something truly surprising: They produced a danceable song. It starts off with high buzzing, bringing to mind "Staring at the Sun" off their debut album "Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes" (2004), but soon breaks off in a completely new direction. Adebimpe half-raps half-sings the lyrics, seemingly racing the beat, desperate to get everything in. Though it's the shortest track on the album "Dancing Choose" is certainly one of the standouts.
"DLZ," appearing second to last on the album, is somewhat danceable, although far darker than "Dancing Choose." "This is beginning to feel like/ Its curling up slowly/ And finding a throat to choke [...] this is beginning to feel like/ The bolt's busted loose from the lever," Adebimpe growls over wailing synth and ominous booms. The track shifts the dreamlike nature of the album into the realm of nightmares.
The tone of TV on the Radio albums has always been important. There is a childlike quality to "Dear Science" that explores life, love, dreams and death. The album constantly moves from light to dark, and the title, "Dear Science," is the salutation of a letter pointing out the things that still cannot be coldly rationalized by scientific thought.
Most tracks are dense and have a "wall of sound" quality. Handclaps and horns combine with fuzzy, distorted guitars, vocal loops and buzzing synthesizers to create an atmosphere that is unmistakably and uniquely TV on the Radio. The production on these songs is slicker than on previous albums, and the sound is less experimental.
Each song on "Dear Science" stands on its own, but the best way to experience them is in the context of the album. By themselves, "Red Dress," "Stork and Owl" and "Love Dog" might suffer, but they work perfectly as breaks between the album's many standout tracks.
One such standout is the album's first single, "Golden Age." Handclaps and funky guitar hooks of new TV on the Radio join fuzzy synth and Adebimpe's falsetto of old TV on the Radio, and when he commands "Clap your hands if you think your soul is free," it's hard not to obey.
The track that follows "Golden Age" will remind many listeners of Bloc Party, although this comparison sells "Family Tree" short. The lush sound heard on most of the album is gone, replaced here by piano and strings. The song is a dark ballad, yet another surprise from TV on the Radio, and a beautiful example of what they are capable of accomplishing.
Bringing "Dear Science" to a close is "Lover's Day," an exuberant track about making sweet, sweet love. There is no subtlety in the lyrics, a standout being "I swear to God it'll get so hot/ It'll melt our faces off." After the drums, horns and Adebimpe's vocals build to a thrilling climax, a clarinet introduces the joyous second half which sounds like a parade. This "Lover's Day" parade, replete with clarinets, saxophones, marching drums and piccolos, is an amazing close to TV on the Radio's work of genius.
At the end of "Lover's Day," if the volume is turned up after the song fades out you can hear one word spoken: "Cool!" And it most certainly is, but cool only begins to describe how this album sounds. TV on the Radio has produced an endlessly listenable album that takes the band to a whole new level.
